


Unknown Stories

by DreamingInThePast



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: 100 Prompts Challenge, 100 Themes Challenge, Actually many different genres, Gen, Multi, a bit of everything really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 20:58:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10474299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamingInThePast/pseuds/DreamingInThePast
Summary: (100 Prompts Challenge) We all know the main story line. Future generations will know about the adventures of our heroes. But what about the small adventures, the everyday lives of the demigods? What about those unkown stories that happened before, in-between, and after the story we know? (Possible spoilers from The Trials of Apollo books)





	1. Story 1 Introduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hello!**
> 
> **So I decided to do a 100 Prompts Challenge List as a way to form a writing routine of sorts for myself, and this is the result. Hopefully we'll all have fun until the end!**
> 
> **Disclaimer:**
> 
> **Any character you do not recognise from the books is my OC.**   
>  **_Percy Jackson_ and any other element you can recognise from the series © Rick Riordan**   
>  **_Hercules_ © Disney**

“We’re almost there! C’mon!” The man –satyr, she reminded herself- urged.

That was by far the weirdest situation Allison Miller had found herself in. And that was saying a lot if one considered that her life was pretty weird already without being hunted by a giant monster with countless heads, thank you very much. Relying on her practically non-existent knowledge of mythology, Allison concluded that the creature currently threatening their lives was a hydra –and felt slightly offended that it looked nothing like the one in Disney’s _Hercules_. This one was far more real, and far more lethal.

She could hear her blood thumping in her ears, and practically _feel_ every breath she took. Her vision was getting blurry, and Allison feared her legs would soon give out and she would become an early dinner for the monster pursuing them. How had she got in that situation again?

Allison tripped on her own two feet and would have fallen on her face if the satyr hadn’t caught her arm in time. He pointed somewhere further ahead in front of them.

“See that pine tree over there?” He kept them running, but the monster was closing in on them quickly. It was a miracle that it hadn’t captured them yet. “Get there and you’re safe.” He pushed her in the back and turned to face the monster.

Allison didn’t even have time to ask him about the satyr’s own well-being before the force of an explosion threw her forward. Spitting dirt out of her mouth, she looked up to the sky and saw a white flare reach up high before exploding like a firework. She desperately wanted to go back to check on the satyr, yet at the same time was terrified of finding out _what_ exactly could have caused an explosion. And so, she got up on shaking legs and ran.

_Run!_

The satyr’s words resonated in her head over the noise of her heartbeat.

_See that pine tree?_

Her head hurt, her lungs hurt, her legs hurt. She was pretty sure the only reason why she hadn’t collapsed yet was the adrenaline running through her veins.

_Get there…_

Allison could see the pine tree closer now. She didn’t register the dragon guarding it, or the pain from the numerous cuts and bruises on her hands and legs from falling down so many times. She only focused on getting there and on the various people that had gathered there. She faintly realised that some were carrying some sort of weapons, and others waved their arms. Were they shouting something at her?

_…and you’re safe._

When she reached the group of people, the last thing she registered before fainting was the sound of hooves, wings, battle cries, and the feeling of various pairs of arms holding her warmly.

 

* * *

 

“I swear everything was okay, and then she said something to that man and BAM! There was the hydra.”

Allison slowly recovered consciousness. She couldn’t open her eyes, but noticed that she was laying on something soft. A bed?

“So what, she’s a daughter of Apollo then?” A female voice. Allison realised through the haziness that the first speaker had been her satyr: he was alive. _Good_.

“From what I can guess,” an unknown male voice close to her said this time, “what Patrick described sounded more like charmspeaking than anything Apollo-related to me.”

Slowly, Allison was hit with a smell she thought she ought to have noticed earlier: the antiseptic smell of a hospital. Luckily, a sweeter smell soon filled her nostrils and next her mouth when a pair of hands gently lifted her head, making her drink a warm liquid.

“I can’t give her anymore ambrosia,” the same voice explained, “but with this and a night’s rest, she should be as good as new.”

The liquid was thick and tasted like apple tart… or more accurately, like her grandmother’s apple tart. She frowned. How?

Another male voice sighed. “Try to warn us earlier next time, Patrick,” the voice complained. “You both were _this_ close to dying today.” He sounded angry, and Allison instinctively knew she didn’t want that person, whoever they were, as her enemy. Like, never ever.

This second of fear jolted her memories awake: the hydra, the satyr, the pain… she sat up with a start, surprising all those present in the process. She looked around: there was her satyr –whom she now knew was named Patrick- at the end of her bed, with his head and arms wrapped in bandages;  a blond girl with grey eyes by his side, wearing an orange T-shirt with a logo covered by her crossed arms; turning her head to her right, a black haired boy with equally dark eyes and black clothes sat on a stool, and by his side was another blond guy with clear blue eyes wearing what seemed to be green medical clothes. The later recovered first and smiled warmly at her.

“You shouldn’t get up yet.” The boy approached her, but stopped when she flinched back.

Allison turned back and forth, looking at all of them. “Where am I? Who are you?” she felt herself panicking by the second. “W-What happened to that monster? What’s gonna happen to me?” She breathed hard. She could still taste her grandmother’s dessert on her tongue, which made absolutely _no_ _sense_ since it was a family recipe that only her grandmother knew.

Patrick tried to calm her down. “Allison –”

“Where is the new camper?” Someone interrupted. The people turned towards the voice, which belonged to a bearded man in a wheelchair. “Good, she’s awake.”

“Chiron…” the blond girl started. But Allison didn’t hear if she had said anything else. The man had just stood up, but where his legs should have been, there was the very real lower body of a horse.

Allison felt her eyes widen and her mouth open in what surely was a rude way of staring.

“Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, Allison.” The horse-man offered her a hand to shake in greeting as he introduced himself. “My name is Chiron, and I am the activities director here at Camp.”

Her vision darkened around the edges, and Allison promptly fainted again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I know not everyone likes leaving a review and first meetings are awkward, so here's a small game I'd like to continue during the series:**
> 
> **Question of the Chapter: How do you relate the topic of 'INTRODUCTION' with this chapter? Like, how do you think I interpreted it? (You don't need to answer, but I'm curious ^^) I'll tell you mine too!**
> 
> **See you next chapter!**


	2. Story 2 Complicated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hello! I'm back!**   
>  **Disclaimer:**   
>  **Any character you do not recognise from the books is my OC.**   
>  **_Percy Jackson_ and any other element you can recognise from the series © Rick Riordan**

There weren’t many things that Lana Clocke found complicated. Being a legacy of Vulcan, she found it rather clichéd that she worked at the forges of Camp Jupiter (even if bloodline had nothing to do with one’s position in Camp). Not that she complained: she _loved_ creating new weapons and artifacts, and her works could rival (and sometimes surpass) those of other artisans without a problem. And let’s not get her started on automatons. Lana practically drooled at the sight of one, and whenever someone needed her to repair an automaton, it felt like her birthday had come around early.

No, her definition of ‘complicated’ was definitely different from those around her. A broken sword? Sure, no problem. A brand-new armour? Easy-peasy. Setting and preparing a whole new set of water cannons on time for the next game of Siege against the Greeks? She could do that with her eyes closed. Which she was doing right then.

Lana closed her eyes with a sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. Seriously, _how_ and _who_ had made such a mess of the cannon’s wires? It was easy to solve, but it was a new prototype and she would need blueprints. Which she had _not_ brought with her.

“I’m gonna kill whoever did this,” she muttered under her breath, glaring at the colourful wires.

“I can help with that.” Lana jumped out of her skin with a yelp and turned around to face a very amused Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano.

Lana blew some strands of light brown hair away from her face. She silently prayed that she didn’t look as flustered as she felt.

“You nearly gave the best blacksmith of Camp Jupiter a heart attack, Praetor.” She clicked her tongue in mock annoyance. “Do you need anything? Shouldn’t you be doing, I don’t know, praetor-ish things?”

Reyna simply rolled her eyes at Lana’s choice of words. “Actually, I need your help. Well, Aurum does,” she added almost as an afterthought. Lana blinked rapidly and glanced down. Her mouth fell open at the sight of the golden automaton dog.

“For Jupiter’s sake!”

The dog’s head had made a 180 degrees turn, and if it hadn’t fallen off completely yet, it was because of the automaton’s own resistant skin. Lana knelt down and pulled the dog closer so she could inspect him better, her mind already checking a mental list of what she would need in order to repair the damage. With expert hands, she took the head carefully and turned it slightly, just enough to see one of its ruby eyes hanging from its socket. Lana winced. The repairs would take a while.

“What happened?” She raised her gaze to the Praetor. A scowl crossed the taller girl’s face.

“The Stolls happened,” Reyna grumbled.

 “The who?” Lana paused in her examination for a moment. The name said nothing to her, but whoever managed to cause this degree of damage to an automaton automatically went to her ‘Watch out for’ list.

“The Stoll brothers, from Camp Half-blood,” Reyna explained. “You don’t want to hear the details, trust me.”

‘ _I always trust you,_ ’ Lana thought. She settled for humming in interest instead before rising to her full height again. It seemed that the Greeks had arrived early. Lana sighed.

“It will take a few hours to repair him. Two hours at most if I don’t need to replace anything,” she explained, running a few calculations in her head. She turned regretfully towards the cannon and gave it a few pats. “I’m afraid your wires will have to wait, buddy,” she apologised to the machine. Reyna put her hands on her hips in thought.

“If you’re busy, I could always ask…” she interrupted herself when Lana shook her head.

“It’s perfectly okay, Reyna!” She exclaimed a bit too quickly. Her cheeks reddened at her own outburst. “I mean, someone else can take a look at the cannons for me, but…” She paused to pat lovingly Aurum’s mangled head. The automaton made a small noise in appreciation. “I’m the only one who can heal them, right?” She flashed a smile at Reyna.

The Praetor visibly relaxed and returned the smile. “Right.” She looked down the row of water cannons waiting to be examined and furrowed her brows. “I’ll call someone to come substitute you while I make sure a Civil War won’t start in our Camp… again,” she said in a resigned voice.

“Just leave Aurum to me, Praetor!” Lana saluted. “You’re leaving him in the best possible hands.” She finished with a wink.

Reyna laughed in amusement. “I know, legionnaire.” She touched the other girl’s forearm lightly. “Thank you, Lana.” Then she turned around and left.

Lana let out a breath she hadn’t noticed she was holding and brushed her fingers over where Reyna had touched her. For the love of Venus, it had been a simple thank-you gesture, something perfectly normal between friends! Lana bit her lower lip. She could feel her pulse going crazy under her fingers, and breathed a few times in hopes of it slowing back to a normal rate. It had been nothing, _nothing_.

Aurum nudged her with his body, startling her. She smiled down at the automaton; Vulcan knew how deep her love for those robots ran. She patted him once more before going back to the forges and to her workshop.

“Let’s get you all shiny and new, buddy.”

Not many things were complicated for Lana. A dented shield? Sure, no problem. Improving the cannons? Easy-peasy. Making a clock from scratch? She could do that with her eyes closed.

Cupid deciding to mess with her and having to deal with her definitely not-platonic feelings for Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano, Praetor of Camp Jupiter? Now _that_ was complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Question of the Chapter: Can you find things that are (and things that aren't) COMPLICATED in this chapter?**
> 
> **_Answer to Ch 1:_ So chapter 1 would be an INTRODUCTION to this fic, as well as Allison Miller's introduction to being a demigod and to Camp Half-blood. And please, don't be afraid to answer even if I have finally posted more chapters. I'll gladly read them!**
> 
> **Thanks for the kudos and the bookmarks!!**
> 
> **See you next chapter!**


	3. Story 3 Making History

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Hello** **again!** _
> 
> **This one was heavily inspired by a post on tumblr (I’ll put the link in my profile if I find it again) and my own worries about the campers’ education. Because yes, that’s what I worry about at 3 a.m. some nights when I should be sleeping.**
> 
> **Disclaimer:**
> 
> **_Percy Jackson_ and any other element you can recognise from the series © Rick Riordan**
> 
> **Note: Our heroes are already in university in this story.**

 

It had been a dumb idea, really. A dumb idea mumbled on a late stargazing night with the Seven. Camp Half-Blood had visited Camp Jupiter on one of their many monthly gatherings, and the group of demigods had chosen to gather away from the main party. Annabeth found herself liking moments like those more each time; moments where there were no quests, no monsters tailing them, no deadlines, and no gods to please. Just chatting, talking about their classes, their professors, their families… Completely no god-related topics.

The conversation was centred on her when the idea first appeared. Annabeth had been explaining to Frank (and the rest by extension) how she was going through an unexpected and most unwelcome artist block. Maybe an architect block in her case. Anyways, her latest assignment was completely ridiculous! So ridiculous she hadn’t even talked about it with Percy yet.

“I mean,” Annabeth slumped her shoulders, “something functional that would work in our society?” She blew a few stray curls away from her eyes. “When is architecture ever not functional?”

Leo would have answered her _rhetorical_ question if Piper hadn’t slapped her hand over his mouth before it was too late. She silenced him completely with a glare and a firm shake of her head. She didn’t need her best friend dead, _again_ , by Annabeth’s hands. Luckily for him, said blonde had pointedly ignored his attempts at a pun.

“So you think it’s some kind of test?” Jason took a sip from his cup before continuing. “Or a trap of sorts?”

“Most likely, yes,” Annabeth hummed in thought. “The thing is, I don’t know what to make!” She threw her hands over her head. “Improve, yes. But _create_?” She said the word as if it left a bitter taste in her mouth just from thinking about it. Everyone knew how much she loved creating buildings, so that was often a sign that Annabeth needed help. Like, actual help.

“ _That_ ’s what you’ve been so worried about?” Percy shook his head in disbelief. “Seriously, I honestly thought you would have started a project for something humongous like a hospital, a new garden, a school, a mall centre, a-”

Annabeth’s head shot up at Percy’s words. “Wait, what was that?” She interrupted the son of Poseidon.

Percy blinked in surprise. “You’ll need to be more specific.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “What you said: a school. Why? New Rome already has schools. As does nearly every other city.”

Annabeth wanted to know why Percy had mentioned a school, of all things; Percy wanted to know why Annabeth had so much trouble seeing his point.

“Well, I wasn’t talking about New Rome, not exactly.” Under his friends’ expectant stares, he sighed and continued. “I was thinking more about a Greek school. I mean, a school for the Greeks, you know?”

Hazel’s eyes widened with a spark of understanding. “Oh, so like New Rome, but for Camp Half-Blood?”

“Exactly!” Percy grinned. “No offense to you guys or anything, but not everyone would want to come here right off the bat.” He took a sip from his blue Coke. “Especially those who have practically grown up there at Camp.” He narrowed his eyes playfully at his girlfriend. “Even _you_ were against coming here at first.”

Annabeth dismissed that last comment with a wave of her hand, not listening anymore. She ignored Leo and Frank’s banter about New Rome – New Athens something, her mind already somewhere else. After weeks of nothingness, she could finally see it: the ideal size, the structure, the decorations. If she planned far ahead enough…

Annabeth got more excited the more she thought about it. If she planned far enough, the assignment got spectacular marks, and she had a few talks with Chiron… Surely Chiron of all people would support her. She already had the perfect location in mind. Annabeth rubbed her chin. Would she need to ask the gods for permission? Probably, but that didn’t scare her. She had rebuilt Olympus and helped save the world more than a few times. She was entitled to some selfish wishes every now and then.

Was it really selfish, though? A school for Greek demigods at Camp Half-Blood. She knew Chiron tried to supply the year-round campers with real-life like education, and it never worked for long. But if they stablished a formal institution, then maybe… Her mother knew how much _easier_ university entrance exams would be if the campers didn’t need to study everything by themselves.

Annabeth startled her friends when she jumped on her feet, kissed Percy on the cheek and ran off towards her assigned tent.

“Where are you going?” She heard her friends shout.

Annabeth paused long enough to turn to them with the biggest smile on her face.

“I’m going to make history!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** Question of the Chapter: ** **Is Annabeth really MAKING HISTORY? Do you think the gods would accept her idea?**
> 
> **_Answer to Ch_ ** **2: I'm pretty sure being a blacksmith is complicated, though it isn't for Lana. Now, if we talked about feelings... When is having a crush not complicated?**
> 
> **Thanks for the kudos!**


	4. Story 4 Rivalry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeello! It’s been too long…
> 
> Hope you enjoy the chapter!

Everyone knew Apollo’s Cabin wasn’t extremely competitive by nature; that was more of a Nike’s Cabin thing. In fact, more often than not the majority of Apollo’s children played peace-maker among the other demigods. They weren’t particularly vain, either. All in all, you could say that they were good at what they did, but didn’t boast about it. At least, most of the time they didn’t. However, like with everything else in the world, there were exceptions that pushed the Apollo’s children’s wrong buttons. And for Kayla Knowles that just happened to be having her pride as the best archer at Camp Half-Blood at stake every single time that the Hunters of Artemis decided to visit.

In theory, she wouldn’t have any reason to feel that way. All children of Apollo were good archers, and even the ones with average skills were still better than archers from other cabins. Besides, Artemis was her aunt; shouldn’t she feel _proud_ of being somewhat related to such an honoured group of immortal beings? Yes, that was what she had told herself many times. There would have been no problem if _some_ of the Hunters hadn’t rubbed their ‘oh so superior’ skills on her face.

The first time it had happened, Kayla had just brushed it off. She was just recovering from a nasty cold, so she had expected her aim to be a bit off that day. She hadn’t minded the snickers coming from the Hunters… _much_. The second time, Kayla decided that she had tolerated them one time too many. Her mortal parent was a superb archery instructor who had caught the attention of the god of archery himself so _yes_ , she knew how to hold the bow properly and _no_ , she did _not_ need any pointers from the Hunters, thank you and goodbye.

This dysfunctional relationship had only worsened over time, reaching the point where archery became a taboo topic between the Hunters of Artemis and the children of Apollo. Any truce they had tried to establish had been utterly disregarded by both parties: the Hunters by judging the campers out loud, and said campers by orchestrating countless pranks on them that might or might not have been carried out by Hermes’ Cabin. As such, the rivalry between both groups wasn’t completely unexpected. Only the newer campers showed surprise at this situation.

“I was sure you got along well,” Nico questioned Kayla when the girl had expressed her disdain for the Hunters’ arrival at Camp.

Kayla blinked up at him. They were currently helping Will organise the different medicines and bandages they were sure to need after that night’s game of Capture the Flag. Will was checking different lists, and she was sure she had heard Austin somewhere at the back of one of the closets when she had arrived.

“Oh, we do,” Kayla agreed with him. “With most of them, yes.” They were interrupted by the sound of Austin falling down along with various cans and other recipients.

“Yeah, as long as there are no bows involved, we’re good,” Austin added with a grunt. He raised a hand to show that he wasn’t severely hurt and got up slowly. His other hand did shot up to the end of his back, though. “Ouch!”

“That’s going to bruise,” Will said in exasperation while Kayla tried to hide her laughter.

“I see…” Nico went back to classifying tablets and pills, and shook his head in frustration. “How do you even know which is what?” He squinted at the unreadable names on the boxes before simply sighing and sitting on a nearby stool.

“Anyways,” Kayla returned to the topic while following Nico’s example and sitting down on the bed next to him. “It’d be nice to get back at some of them somehow,” she sighed, “like winning tonight’s game.”

“That’s going to be difficult.” Will picked up one of the cans from the floor. “Like it or not, the Hunters _are_ good,” he explained with a wry smile. He then blinked at the object on his hand. “What even is doing a paint can in the infirmary?”

“I think I heard Cecil say something about ‘running out of space’…” Austin supplied. He sat down beside Kayla with a wince. The daughter of Apollo ran her hands through her hair with a groan.

“There _must_ be a way to take them down a peg!” She cried out. Her outburst was followed by a silence interrupted only by Will’s inspection of the cans. The revision of the medical supplies had long been forgotten.

“Maybe there is,” Nico spoke up after a while, staring thoughtfully at the paint cans. Kayla followed his line of sight and tilted her head in confusion. What the Hades was he planning?

 

***

 

Kayla decided that she never wanted to leave Nico alone with a child of Hermes, much less be on the receiving end of one of his pranks. Well, she had been on his side this time, so at least she got a good laugh out of it. Sure, the campers had lost the game (again), but it had been a Pyrrhic victory on the Hunters’ part. She was extremely pleased to notice that most of her fellow campers were trying –and failing- to hold back laughter at the sight of the eternal maidens. She was sure she had seen Chiron smiling under that beard of his.

Some of the Hunters’ white and silver clothes were splattered with a wide range of colours: jackets, T-shirts, hair, faces… The nastiest (in Kayla’s opinion) Hunters were practically a walking rainbow. Kayla faintly heard Percy tell Thalia something about ‘yellow not being her colour’, which she was sure got a punch thrown at him. Some of the ‘innocent’ Hunters had been caught in the crossfire, but Kayla couldn’t find it in herself to feel guilty.

Nico’s idea had been fairly simple: since the Hunters always wore white or silver, he guessed it would be troublesome if their clothes were to get dirty. The son of Hades kindly suggested they test whether their clothes were as waterproof as they seemed… with paint. When Kayla shared the idea with some of the other campers, they had been more than happy to assist with replacing the sharp tips of some arrows with painted tips and filling water balloons with paint. The Hunters wouldn’t be able to complain about the children of Apollo’s accuracy anymore.

Ignoring the death glares some of the maidens threw in her direction, Kayla flashed a sunny smile at Nico.

“Will you help next time too, Nico?” She practically begged the older teenager.

“Against the Hunters of Artemis?” Nico glanced at the scowling girls before smirking. “Count me in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that Nico, once he has opened up more to the other campers, might regain some of the spirit he had when we first met him, as in talking more and possibly playing pranks. And he didn’t precisely meet the Hunters under the best circumstances, so… Paint cans.
> 
> Question of the Chapter: Do you have a favourite RIVALRY in the books? If so, who are rivals and how do you relate it influenced the story?
> 
> _Answer to Ch 3_ : Well, a school might not seem that grand, but I believe it would be quite the step towards protecting the demigods. The gods better accept her idea. 
> 
> Thanks for the kudos, subscriptions and bookmarks!
> 
> See you next chapter!


	5. Story 5 Unbreakable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> Please, keep in mind that I hadn’t read The Dark Prophecy yet before writing this, which may explain some inconsistences with the canon. Thank you!

_“They are only mortal, Lady Hestia.” Psyche looked the fire goddess in the eyes. “Those children… I do not know how much longer they will be able,_ willing _, to hold onto us.”_

As a virgin goddess, Hestia did not have children of her own. That did not, by any means, imply that she did not have what Hera called ‘maternal instincts’ (the hearth goddess sometimes questioned how her sister viewed herself). She considered all demigods, Greek and Roman, to be like her children, her family –all of them. Sadly, that fact was often overlooked by many of the other gods. And it broke her immortal heart to see the demigods get hurt again and again because of her siblings.

She had seen the start and end of the Second Olympian War and the toll it had taken on her dear people. And all because of Luke Castellan, a little boy, a lost child who had begged for years for the tiniest sign of affection, for a proof that someone _did_ care. But no one listened, and what was once an innocent soul became corrupted at the hands of Kronos. The child of Hermes hadn’t been the first demigod to think about turning their backs on Olympus, but Luke had been the first to take matters into his own hands. Hestia, like many other times before, had tried to talk to such demigods, to show them that at least she would be by their side, but none of them listened. Not many ever did.

She believed against all odds that the demigods would be able to come to terms with what had occurred, with their losses, and move on somehow. But then Percy Jackson disappeared and Gaea declared war against their world. The consequences of the Second Giant War were devastating for both Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter. More betrayals, more deaths, more painful experiences to cope with. Why, why did Apollo go and bestow a forbidden gift onto another lost child? Because Hestia, while she might not be as tuned with human emotions as strongly as Psyche was, knew of her children’s nightmares, her children’s fears and regrets.

She couldn’t help but wonder. If the gods had listened to the demigods, if they had _actually_ cared for them like many had pleaded with them to do before, would those last two wars have been as painful as they had been? Would Luke Castellan, Ethan Nakamura, Octavian, and many, many others, still be alive? And she did not dare think about the children of Hecate who had allied themselves with Kronos. She knew that, someday, that was something that would come back to bite the gods when they least expected it.

And now here they were, disconnected from the mortal world once more. Discussing the current affairs in their comfortable throne room once more. Ignoring their children’s calls _once more_. Hestia sighed again, a sigh which went unheard under the arguing of the gods. Apollo had somehow managed to deliver them a message through Iris from the mortal world, and it was not a happy update of his new life as a human. While some gods wanted to let him deal with his descendants on his own, many others –among which Hestia was glad to find Artemis- wanted to re-establish connection with the camps and help the demigods. They did not want a repeat of the past few years.

However, as it usually happened in those kinds of reunions, and even more so since the minor gods got a voice for themselves, the conversation had drifted to arguing about who had stolen whose sacrificial chicken back in the 1st century B.C. and the like. Hestia looked around the room. Some gods weren’t even paying attention anymore: Hephaestus was tinkering away on his seat, hopefully trying to come up with a way to contact with the demigods; Ares was adding fuel to the arguing simply because he was the god of war; Aphrodite was idly checking her French manicure, and Poseidon and Hades had, for once, joined forces against Zeus’ impassibility and demanded that the others ‘let their sons alone for one goddamned time’. Many minor gods had desisted in trying to voice their opinions, and Hestia’s gaze paused on Psyche, dejectedly resting her head on Eros’ shoulder. Her sad eyes confirmed Hestia’s worst fears. _See_ , they seemed to say, _nothing has improved. They haven’t changed_.

Hestia closed her eyes. _But we need to._

She willed her flames to grow large, large enough to touch the ceiling and catch the gods’ attention. “Enough,” she said. She did not need to shout. The silence that crept into the room carried her voice smoothly to all ears present.

_They are only mortal_.

Hestia took the time to look into each of the gods’ eyes, but did not try to analyse what she saw in each of them. She walked to the centre of the room and turned to look at the lord of the sky.

“We must help them,” she said vehemently. “If we leave them alone, many of them will die. Again.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the gods straightening themselves, listening closely. A sad smile crossed her lips. If they were expecting some kind of long, emotion filled speech, they would end up thoroughly disappointed.

“The demigods you keep trying to control like chess pieces have a life of their own, my dear brothers and sisters.” She opened her arms as if to embrace an invisible group of people. “They live, they cry, they laugh, they fight, and they love with a strength that we can only dream of. However, they are merely children.”

_They are only…_

“…Only mortal children.” Was her message reaching any of them? She wanted it. She needed it as much as she needed to be remembered to survive. “Keep treating them like disposable pawns and they will turn against us one more time.”

Hestia closed her eyes and took a deep breath to steel her resolve. She could see the many faces of her children drifting against her eyelids. She had to finish. This time, she would make them listen.

“They are finite and fragile,” she said with a sigh. “They are not unbreakable, and I am afraid they will not be able to withstand another war. And all of you know that I am speaking the truth. So now I ask you, my brothers and sisters.”

Hestia looked directly at Zeus once more.

“What will our stance in this current battle be?”

She had laid all her cards on the table. Now she hoped against hope that Zeus would play on her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re wondering, Psyche appears in the PJO universe in Percy Jackson and the Greek Heroes. She is the Goddess of the Human Soul, and the wife of Eros. I like to think that Hestia and her could have an amicable relationship.
> 
> Question of the chapter: Can you remember any moment in which a character showed their strength of mind, as in not breaking down / recovering from an emotionally stressing situation? What’s your opinion about it?
> 
> _Answer to Ch 4:_ There are so many rivalries in the books… Maybe it’s a bit cliché, but my first thought went to Percy and Jason. I like how they can work together, yet there’s still that sense of competitiveness between them, which in most cases motivates them to improve themselves. The rivalry among the Cabins is good, too.
> 
> See you next chapter!


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